


Push Past Regrets

by h_nb



Series: Phoebe [5]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Bruises, Caretaking, Concussions, Fear, Powered OC, Rescue, Whump, Whumptober 2020, crossover episode lol, injuries
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-26
Updated: 2020-10-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:34:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,155
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27211282
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/h_nb/pseuds/h_nb
Summary: Whumptober Day Twenty Six: Concussion
Series: Phoebe [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1954471
Kudos: 2
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	Push Past Regrets

It was another quiet evening that wouldn't stay quiet for long, Phoebe was sure of that and she was almost looking forward to it. Today had been a bad day for her, a day full of memories she wished she had never gained and regrets she wished she had taken action on. But she put those thoughts out of her mind, as much as she could, and moved down the street that had pulled at her mind. There was someone down here, someone whose head was swimming with hazy fear, they were afraid, and Phoebe could help them.

And then maybe their head would be a little bit quieter afterward, not quite so flooded by memories they didn't want.

They walked the streets crowded with mainly abandoned buildings, only a few shops held any flickering lights in the windows. For the most part, they were long abandoned, doors either boarded up or broken off entirely, and the streets were mostly empty. Still, Phoebe followed the pull of fear that crept into her mind and consumed her thoughts until there weren't too many of her own left.

She turned a corner, stopping at the side door to an old shop that was open to the night air. Just inside, a young man lay crumpled on the ground, eyes fluttering and groaning weakly. His dark hair was matted with what was likely blood, and bruises were forming on his swollen eyes and at his jaw. Phoebe crouched down, but the instant she reached out to touch the stranger's arm he groaned, and fears crystallized in Phoebe's mind, sharp where his other lingering thoughts were fuzzy.

_They're back they're back no no don't touch don't hurt please let me live don't don't oh god they're back don't hurt me_

Phoebe pulled her hand back, instead sitting down in front of him, doing her best to gauge his condition without touching him and scaring further. "I'm not them," she said softly, hopefully enough to reach his ears.

His eyes fluttered again, and Phoebe could see that he was trying to focus on her. "I'm not with them, whoever you- you're afraid of. I'm not them. I'm here to help."

There was a long pause before the man attempted to speak again, swollen lips barely moving "Wh...who are... you?"

"I'm Phoebe," she said kindly. "I'm going to try and get you to sit up, okay? You look like you have a concussion."

The man blinked slowly at her, eyes unfocused. "Wh... what d'you say?" His fear had only lessened slightly, still a constant piercing in Phoebe's brain.

"You don't have to be afraid," she tried to soothe. "I'm here to help you."

"Help...? Why, what's... who are you?"

Phoebe pursed her lips in concern, tilting her head. "It seems like a pretty bad concussion," she murmured, briefly looking over his other injuries. "I can call an ambulance for you if you'd like, would you rather have that?"

"Ambulance... hospital... mmh, been, too many hospitals, don't, can't, no hospitals," he slurred. "No money. For hosp'tal."

Phoebe frowned. "Okay. Can I help you sit up, so we can try and get back to my apartment? I won't take you to a hospital -- unless you really need it."

"No hospitals," he mumbled again, trying to place an arm on the ground to push himself up. Phoebe helped him, placing gentle hands to assist him that he did not flinch away from, even though his fear didn't lessen whatsoever. "Okay," he said as he sat against a wall. "Phoebe? That's... you're not with them?"

"No," she said patiently. "I'm just someone who wants to help."

"Oh..." he trailed off, blinking for a few moments before speaking again. "I'm... Keaton."

"It's nice to meet you, even though it's like this," Phoebe said before moving on to the more important matters. "Do you want to try and stand now? My apartment is a bit of a walk, but I'll support you."

"I can walk, prob'ly," He needed Phoebe's help to stand, swaying slightly and leaning against a wall. He wasn't that much taller than Phoebe, so it wasn't very awkward to help him stay upright as they walked the blocks back to her apartment and up the steps. They had to pause quite a few times, either because the dizziness or nausea would suddenly get worse for Keaton and they needed to stop for a few minutes until it passed. Eventually though, the two of them made it into Phoebe's apartment, and Phoebe helped Keaton lay down on the bed before going to get her first aid kit and some damp clothes. She came back a few minutes later, unfolding a chair and beginning to tend to his wounds.

Keaton opened his mouth to try and talk a few times, but the dizziness must have gotten the better of him because it was a silent several minutes that passed as Phoebe held a thick pad of gauze to Keaton's head, keeping it there for a substantial amount of time until the bleeding stopped. She then took a damp cloth and cleaned the area around the wound, wiping the dried blood from his hair and neck as much as possible. There wasn't much that could be done for the bruises on his face other than let a cold pack rest over his eyes, which Keaton winced at but eventually relaxed to. There weren't too many more injuries, they were mostly superficial scrapes and small bruises, no indication of any broken bones or internal injuries, only a nasty concussion, combined with a few bruises in a nasty concoction.

Phoebe didn't ask what had happened, and Keaton didn't offer. She had helped him take off the camera that had been around his neck, and it now sat on the bedside table, lens cracked horribly. Phoebe didn't know much about cameras, but she hopes it would be fixable, because Keaton was awfully distraught when Phoebe lifted the strap from around his neck, a new fear of _my camera I need my camera don't hurt me please don't do that don't take my camera_ , and Phoebe reassured him that she wasn't taking his camera, she wasn't hurting him, and that things were okay.

After several more minute of observing him, Phoebe concluded it would be alright if he slept for the time being, though she planned to check on him every couple of hours to make sure he was still doing fine and the wound hadn't started bleeding again. Keaton gave a drowsy noise of agreement before his eyes closed again and he easily fell into sleep.

Phoebe walked into the kitchen and made a fresh pot of coffee, thinking through her plan for the night ahead. Memories had been firmly buried once more, there was another warm cup of coffee in her hand, and Phoebe was going to help this person, she wouldn't fail him, she would help him.


End file.
